


Memories

by Happy_Smiling_Things



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Childhood Memories, Children, Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 06:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19371619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Smiling_Things/pseuds/Happy_Smiling_Things
Summary: Nesta tries to be the perfect daughter for her mom, but she never notices.





	Memories

“Careful Nesta, you have to walk with your back straight and your chin high,” whispered the little girl.  
It had been two hours now, and she was still working on her manners, walking back and forth in her room, encouraging herself, remembering all the things her private tutor had told her.  
Smoothing the fabric of her dress, Nesta took a breath, turned around and walked all the way to the window, watching her every move, making sure to look straight ahead, focused not to trip on the folds of her dress. Sensing her shoulders slumping, she immediately straightened up her position and kept walking, reprimanding herself for her mistake.   
She had heard the servants say that her mother would be back today, and she had to be perfect to welcome her home.  
“One more time, and don’t let your shoulders cave in,” she ordered herself.  
Turning to the door, she raised her head and walked slowly, checking her posture with every step. Finally arriving to the end of the way, she smiled to herself, proud of her accomplishment.   
Some noise came to her hears from downstairs, and she opened her door, curious about what was happening.  
“Milady, we didn’t expect you this early on the afternoon!”  
“Is that a problem?”  
“Not at all,” quickly replied the maid.  
“Make sure the tea is served in fifteen minute in my private room.”  
“Sure.”  
Joy waved through Nesta from hearing her mother’s composed voice, and she rushed to her mirror, fixing her hair so it was perfectly combed, not a strand escaping her bun. Smiling at her reflect, she took a deep breath and walked out, slowly going downstairs, where the voices could be heard.  
Rising her chin and joining her hands in front of her like she had seen her mother do, the little girl finished her descent and walked in the great hall.  
Standing in the center, three other women at her sides, was Mrs. Archeron. She was smiling, her eyes on one of her friends, listening to the story she was telling.   
Nesta staid at the foot of the stairs, waiting patiently for an opportunity to walk toward her mother and greet her, to show her her progresses in her bearing.  
When the four women started to laugh at what had said one of them, she approached, careful not to look too excited.  
“Welcome home,” she said, slightly bowing her head with a smile. “I’m glad to see you mother.”  
None of the four ladies gave her attention, her mother only glancing at her before talking to her friends as if her daughter wasn’t here. Unsure of what to do, Nesta fumbled with the folds of her dress, searching for a way to be noticed without interrupting them.  
Staying quiet, she waited and waited, hoping she would find a way to talk to her mother. It had been a few days since she had seen her, and even more since the last time they had exchanged a few words.  
“Let’s move to the private room ladies, we have a party to organize,” proposed Mrs. Archeron, showing the way with her hand.  
Her friends nodded, beaming and starting to talk about flowers and champagne and other things, and Nesta watched them go away before turning her head to her mother. She already had her back on her, ready to join her friends, if she wanted to   
“My reading teacher says I made interesting progresses, and I’ve practiced-”  
“I have important things to do Nesta, I don’t have time to talk for now,” cut her mother, looking at her daughter over her shoulder, not bothering to even stop to respond to her.  
“Oh, sure, I apologize,” responded Nesta, trying her best to hide her disappointment.  
And just like that, she watched her mother turn around and walk away from her. She didn’t even so much as glance at her as she joined her friends and closed the door of her room, leaving her alone in the hall.  
Keeping her head high cost her more than she would admit, but Nesta did it, gulping down the soar feelings. Before the servants could come back with the tea her mother had asked for, she got upstairs, heading to her room. She was halfway to it when Elain came running, a big smile on her face.  
“Nesta! I was looking for you!” She said excitedly.  
“And why do you need me?”  
“Feyre and I were about to have a tea party, and we wanted you to join us.”  
Nesta was about to refuse the invitation, but seeing her little sister with such a big smile and joy in her eyes stopped her.   
“We’d better go there too, it’s impolite to let someone alone for too long during a tea party,” she offered with a little smile.  
Elain’s smile widened at her response, and she took her hand to guide her on the other way to her room, where Feyre was seating, looking at the window.  
“Feyre, I found Nesta!” She exclaimed.  
“So we can eat now?”  
The little girl jumped from where she was and rushed to the table, claiming the nearest chair. Nesta and Elain approached, the eldest sister taking in how the table was set.  
“I’m sorry, I forgot the cookies.”  
“I’ll go get some.”  
Feyre ran across the room, holding the skirt of her dress. She was almost out when Nesta turned around to catch her arm.  
“Don’t run like that Feyre, you might fall on the stairs,” she gently said, amused by the way her sister pouted.  
“I’m a big girl, I’m four! I can handle myself.”  
“I’m sure you can, but be careful please, and try to be discreet when stealing in the kitchens. We don’t want to be caught with our secret tea party.”  
Feyre smiled at her and nodded before rushing out the door despite Nesta’s words. Laughing, she turned again, finding Elain lifting the teapot with trembling hands.  
“Here,’ Nesta said while putting her hands on top of hers to secure it, “and now all you have to do is gently tilt it so you don’t spill the tea everywhere.”  
She guided her gestures, helping her to fill the first cup, before slowly removing her hands, staying next to her just in case, carefully watching her filling the two other cups. Smiling when Elain put the teapot on the table, she bent over, smelling the sweet perfume.  
“Is that rose tea?” She asked as she took a seat in front of her sister.  
“Yes, we took your favorite one.”  
“Why mine?”  
“Because last time we had a tea party it was mine, and the next time we have a tea party it will be Feyre’s favorite.”  
“We’ll have an orange juice party then.”  
The two girls looked at each other and burst into laughter. Feyre came back when they finally calmed down, holding a few cookies in her hands. Looking over her shoulder before pushing the door, she put them on the plate waiting in the center of their table at seated between her sisters.  
“No one saw you?” Inquired Nesta.  
“I was discreet, I went in, took the cookies, and went out really fast.”  
“Good, so let’s start our party!”  
Staying in Elain’s room during all the afternoon, the three girls discussed together, laughing and bickering over everything and anything, playing with Elain’s dolls and Feyre’s rocking horse, Nesta inventing stories for them. She imitated her teacher, making the others laugh at the way she was pronouncing her word, exaggerating her manners. Time passed so fast none of them saw the night fall, and they jumped at the sound of the bell announcing dinner time.  
“Alright ladies,” started Nesta as she got up and smoothed her dress and quickly checked her hair, “it’s time to go down and eat.”  
“I can’t eat anything, my belly is full of cookies,” complained Feyre, patting her stomach to prove her point.  
“You will have to eat at least half of your plate, we all have to do it or they will suspect something. Now get up so I can make sure you’re presentable to eat with mother.”  
Elain and Feyre did as she asked, passing their hands on their skirts to clean them from the crumbs left, and Nesta quickly brushed their hair, making sure not to hurt them. With one final look, she nodded and opened the door, leading the way. Straightening her back, she reminded herself about what she had worked on all morning, trying her best to walk as her mother did.  
Entering the dining room, they found a maid and the table dressed for three.  
“Good evening, miss Nesta, Elain, Feyre,” she said as a cook brought the plates.  
The three child took place around the long table, which felt a bit odd for only them to eat here. Nesta looked over the door, hoping her mother would enter and share the meal with them.  
“Your mother told us she was too busy to eat at the usual time and asked for us to make sure you’d eat and go to bed after.” Informed the maid before leaving the room.  
The feeling she had felt earlier in the afternoon came back twice as hard in Nesta’s chest, but she didn’t let it show, smiling to her sisters instead. Taking a bite of what was on her plate, she couldn’t avoid the bitterness and disappointment to fill her.  
The little girls tried their best to keep the conversation up and to smile, but it seemed none of them had the heart to do it, and they didn’t take long to finish food, wanting to go back to their little world upstairs, where everything was just better than here.   
The servants cleared the table, and three maids escorted each of the Archeron sisters to their room, helping them with their clothes and bath, brushing their hair and preparing them to go to bed as they were asked. The one in charge of Nesta tried to talk a bit with her, but she barely paid attention to what she was asking, responding with as few words as possible.   
Once her hair was braided for the night, she thanked the maid and went on her bed, taking the book resting on her bedside table, lightening a candle to read. She had to concentrate to understand every word, but once she was fully focused on the story, the words flew by and she devoured the pages one after another.  
Completely lost on her love story, she almost jumped on her bed when she heard a knock on her door. Putting her book back on the nightstand, Nesta got up and walked to the door, opening it to find her little sisters.  
“Elain? What are you doing here? And you Feyre?” She whispered.  
“I can’t sleep, and Feyre can’t sleep either.”  
“And what do you want me to do about that?”  
“Can you read us a story please?” Asked Feyre.  
Nesta sighed and thought about it for a few seconds, before opening the door wider to let them in. Elain and Feyre rushed to her bed, going on both sides of the bed, letting Nesta seat between them. They snuggled under the bedcovers, making themselves comfortable as the eldest sister opened a book she had selected before returning to bed.  
“Alright, everyone’s ready?”  
The girls nodded, Feyre resting her head on Nesta’s shoulder as Elain hold her comforter. She started to read them a story about some princess going to a ball to find her future husband. They sometimes interrupted her to ask questions about the princess, the mysterious knight and the evil sorcerer, but the sisters fell asleep before she could finish it, and Nesta just blew the candle and closed her eyes, joining them in Morpheus’ arms.

\- - -

It had been hours since she had last left her room now.  
After what had happened the last she had seen her mother, Nesta had decided to stop overthinking it and work harder. She had spent the entire week working on her handwriting, picking books to find inspiration, spreading everything on the floor, writing for hours everyday, only stopping when her wrist hurt too much.  
She had taken every poetry collection she could find and stayed alone, reading until her eyes became watery, making sure to note every word she didn’t know the meaning so she could ask to her reading teacher. After composing her own poem out of the words she had now learned, she had trained herself to write, making sure her handwriting was neat, being extra careful about not letting a single drop of ink stain her paper.   
This morning she had decided she was ready, so she had taken a knew piece of paper and started to write. It was now her eighth attempt, but she was as focused as she had started.  
Everything had to be perfect, it couldn’t be less than that.  
Putting her quill on her inkwell after writing the last line, Nesta reread her work, searching for any spelling mistake. She reread her poem four times, just to be absolutely sure.  
Nodding to herself with a proud smile on her face, she got up and stirred a bit, trying to get ride of the soreness she felt on the neck and wrist for the long time working without pausing.  
Looking at the clock, she felt a wave of panic rush through her. She hadn’t realize she had spent so much time to copy her poem, and it was already late on the afternoon. It wouldn’t be long until her mother came back.   
Rushing downstairs, she walked as quickly as she could, reminding herself every second passing she couldn’t run, it wouldn’t be convenient. Walking all the way to the back of the house, she passed the patio, searching for the gardener.   
“Mr. Ames, did you have the time to cut some flowers for me as I asked yesterday?” She asked a bit out of breath.  
“Of course miss Archeron, I gave them to Mrs. Grant, she put them in a vase so they wouldn’t fade.”  
Nesta smiled at the old man and bowed her head before rushing back in the house under the amused look of the gardener. She didn’t have to search for too long, as the maid was passing by the great hall with a big vase on her hands.  
“Just on time.” Smiled the woman to Nesta. “Where do you want me to put them?”  
“Can you put them on the center table of the room please?”  
The maid did as she was asked, and gave the little girl one last smile before walking away. Nesta looked at the beautiful flowers the gardener had cut for her. He had cut exactly the number she had asked for, it was perfect.  
Hearing horses neighing across the door, she quickly put her poem next to the vase and went upstairs, hiding on the steps, impatient to see her mother’s reaction.  
Footsteps echoed on the marble, and soon enough she heard her voice. When the door finally opened, Nesta lowered herself a bit more, not wanting to be seen. She waited excitedly, but all this excitement and joy faded away as she caught the disdain in her mother’s eyes.  
“Mrs.Grant!” The woman called with a frown on her face.  
The maid rushed in and bowed, waiting for orders.  
“What is that ugly thing put in the house?”  
“Oh, it’s-”  
“You know what? Just get rid of them, I don’t want to see this atrocity one more second.”  
“Yes Milady.”  
And just like that, Mrs.Archeron walked to her private room, not even noticing the poem Nesta had written. The maid sighed as she took the flowers away, and Nesta just sat on the stairs, disappointment and hurt filling her. She waited until the great hall was empty before she went downstairs to take her poem back, walking back in her room in silence.  
The next morning, as the sun was just rising, Nesta opened her eyes and got up quickly, putting on her robe and grabbing her poem before going down. Still half-asleep, she followed the sound of her mother voice, hoping she could have a moment with her before she’d go somewhere for a few days without coming home again.  
Unfortunately, Nesta only got the time to see the green folds of her mother’s dress as she ran in the Great Hall, the door closing behind her. She stayed here with her arms on her sides, feeling stupid with her poem on one hand, glaring at the door.  
“Maybe I can take it from you, so I’ll be able to give it to your mother when she comes back,” proposed the maid.  
Nesta hadn’t seen her coming, and she looked up at her. Anger then filled her from the pity she could see in her eyes.   
“No, thank you,” she responded a bit sharply before turning her back to her.  
Not wanting to spend more time humiliating herself by standing alone here, Nesta decided to go back to bed to read a bit.  
Next time, she told herself, next time I’ll make her proud of me.  
Folding her poem in two, she took a deep breath and started to climb back the stairs.  
“Careful Nesta, you have to keep your back straight and your chin high,” she said to herself, wiping away the tears from her eyes as she arrived at her door.

\- - -

“Nes?”  
Blinking a few time, Nesta finally reconnected with present. She hadn’t sensed herself fall into her childhood memories, and it took her a few seconds to remember where she was.  
“What were you saying?”  
Cassian approached, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. The red of his siphons glowed in the light of the fire from their chimney, and she looked up as he spoke.  
“I was saying thank you for sending me your last reports, they came just in time so I could study them before going to the meeting. Is something wrong?”  
“Everything’s fine, I was just caught in old memories.”  
“Old memories?”  
“I found something from my childhood on a book,” she answered.  
Cassian then took a look on what was between her hands, smiling at the sight of the yellowing paper.  
“I should’ve known your handwriting was already perfect at a very young age,” he laughed before regaining his serious, reading what was written on it.  
Nesta let him read without saying a word, observing his features as his eyes jumped from one line to the next one. The way he looked at her when he was finished made her heart flutter, and happiness overwhelmed her as he put an arm around her and bend toward her to kiss her lips.  
“It’s beautiful sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth, caressing her arm at the same time.  
Nesta’s smile widened at that, and she returned the kiss fervently, putting a hand on his cheek.  
“For who did you write it?”  
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she responded, taking back the piece of paper and placing it back in the book from where it came from, putting it on the table. “I want to focus on now, on us.”  
Cassian’s eye turned darker as she climbed on his laps, and she could feel him smile as she pressed her lips on his, letting his scent and touch intoxicate her senses.   
What had happened all this years ago didn’t matter anymore, because now she had someone who loved her and took time for her, and it was all that mattered.


End file.
